


You Belong With Me

by addictiontofiction13



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-28 22:38:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13913625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/addictiontofiction13/pseuds/addictiontofiction13
Summary: "We've known each other since elementary school, Ciel," he says, flicking his hair behind his ear like he always does when he's nervous. "I should've known I would fall in love with you eventually."My eyes are still wide, and my mouth is dry. "What am I supposed to say? I love you, too, Sebastian? Let's ride away into the sunset together and forget about your pregnant girlfriend?" My heart aches. This isn't the fairytale happy ending I've always dreamed of."Just tell me you love me, too. That's all I need."I square my shoulders and meet congac orbs. "Well, I don't."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hewwo!!! Welcome to my rewrite of a work I did back in 2014 on ff.net (the original sucked ass). So here we are, on chapter one. It's been a long time coming as I've wanted to rewrite this since I finished it. I hope y'all enjoy.
> 
> Thanks to my beautiful beta, krystal_pheonix, for all of her help in this rewrite and the original. I hope this is better than the original haha!

My best friend is running around his room, rummaging through his closet and every drawer filled with clothes. Shirts and pants litter the floor, and I know I should say something, but I don’t. I’m sitting on his massive queen sized bed, probably looking as bored as I feel. I yawn as I lean back against the headboard, and he looks at me with those multi-colored eyes. His eyes are the reason why I pestered him to speak to me on the playground ten years ago.

 

_ “Why is one eye purple, but the other one is blue?” I had asked, and his eyebrows pulled together. He shrugged, and I bent down to be at his level - he’s always been shorter than me. “I’m Sebastian.” _

 

_ “I’m Ciel,” he replied, his lips pulled down into a frown and I smiled. _

 

“Are you gonna help me or are you just gonna sit there?” he asks, pulling me from the memories. Ciel is standing next to his closet, hands on his hips and his cheeks puffed out in frustration.

 

“I don’t get why you’re so nervous. It’s just Alois Trancy,” I say, flicking my hand in his direction and shrugging my shoulders.

 

“It’s not  _ just _ Alois Trancy, it  _ is _ Alois Trancy!” he groans and he falls face first in the bed. He’s beside my hip, with his face buried in the sheets. He says something else, but it’s muffled and I can’t understand.

 

“What?” I ask.

 

He lifts his head. “He’s perfect, Sebastian! I want to impress him!”

 

I roll my eyes. “You can’t really impress him in our uniforms,” I point out, and he looks down at the hideous tree green vest still on my chest. He’s changed already, into a pair of high waisted shorts and a button down light blue - the same color as one eye - dress shirt that he’s tucked into the shorts.

 

“He’s gonna be at Grelle’s party tonight, though,” Ciel replies, and it’s my turn to groan.

 

“Please tell me we’re not going.” It makes sense now, why he’s been going through his clothes, why he’s put his shoulder length, slate hair back into a bun.

 

“Oh we’re going,” he confirms my fears, and I try not to whine in response. “Do I seriously look okay?”

 

I try not to look at his clothes for too much longer than I already have and nod. “You look fine.” His face falls.

 

“I don’t want to look  _ fine _ !” He shoves himself off the bed and immediately runs back to his closet, throwing more fabrics onto the ground.

 

“Ciel, dude,” I say, swinging my feet over the edge of the bed. They hit the hardwood floor and I stand, walking over to grab his wrist. “Chill. You look better than fine. You’ll be the hottest dude at the party.”

 

“Think I’ll be hotter than Grelle, too?” he asks, looking at me with those wide, innocent, heterochromatic orbs.

 

I laugh loudly. Everyone - boy and girl - is hotter than that Junior class whore of a woman. And I’m not gay, but Grelle can’t even hold a candle to Ciel’s beauty. “Always,” I reply, and this earns me a smile. I grin back at him.

 

“You should go home,” he says. “I’ll pick you up in two hours for the party. Dress nice, okay?” He ushers me out the door, and I glance back at him in confusion.

 

“Fine, I'll dress nice, but if Grelle so much as looks at me-" He holds up a hand to cut me off and I blink at him twice.

 

“I know, I know. We'll leave. Now go.” He shuts his bedroom door, leaving me staring at the perfect off white color. Why does Ciel drag me around everywhere? I had planned on playing some  _ Call of Duty _ tonight, but noooo, I have to be  _ hit on _ by that bitch. Whatever.

 

“Leaving before dinner, Sebastian?” asks Rachel as I make my way down the stairs, backpack slung over my shoulder.

 

“Uh… yeah, lot's of homework tonight,” I lie. She smiles her knowing smile at me, and my heart melts. Rachel is, like, the perfect mom. She's been there for me in rough times, when my own absent parents couldn't care less.

 

“Make sure Ciel doesn't get too drunk tonight,” she replies and I bite my tongue. Of course she knows, Ciel is bad at being quiet about parties. “I know it's Friday, but Vincent will be home tomorrow, and I also know Ciel won't want to be hungover when seeing his father for the first time in two months.”

 

Vincent Phantomhive was just starting out a small law firm when I met Ciel. I didn’t understand all of that lawyer talk back then, but he’s the reason I’ve chosen to go off to college next year to become a lawyer, myself. His firm has made two other branches since he started it, and he regularly visits the London and Paris branches to make sure they’re doing well. Even though he’s often absent physically from Ciel’s life, he makes sure to check in once or twice a week, and he gets completely caught up when he’s home. Vincent is a very doting father, and he constantly showers Rachel with love when he’s in town, as well. They’re relationship goals for me, to be honest, married twenty three years and still so in love.

 

“I’ll get him home early,” I promise, and she smiles again.

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” she says. I nod and duck out of the house. While I love Rachel and Vincent, they can be a bit intimidating, especially given my own family’s history. I try to shake that thought out of my head. The Phantomhive’s have been nothing but kind to me my entire life. They’re a treasure I’d never wish to rid myself of.   
  


The short trek from Ciel’s house to my own takes no longer than ten minutes. My parents rent an apartment of shitty quality - nowhere near the beauty that is the Phantomhive house, though it’s not as big as you’d expect given their wealth. Drug addicts and alcoholics live in these apartments, people who can’t afford anything else, and it’s rare to see a child here. Most are taken away from the complex via hanger abortions. I was one of the lucky few who survived them.

 

The first thing you’ll notice when you enter apartment 7B is all the trash on the floor. Beer cans and broken bottles and wine stains and McDonald’s bags and dirty clothes. Everywhere. It’s disgusting. The second thing your eyes will never miss is my father. He’s always sitting in his recliner, one hand holding a can of beer with the other holding the television remote. I’ve never seen him without a cigarette, except for when he’s putting the most recent one out.

 

“You’re home early,” he grunts at me, and I nod, keeping my eyes on the floor as I step over things to make my way back to my bedroom.

 

“I’m sorry, sir. I wasn’t planning on staying long.” He takes a long drag of his cigarette, those dark brown eyes - the same color as mine - never wavering from my face as I walk past his precious television.

 

“That Ciel kid paying your dinner tonight, boy?” Who else would? I think, but don’t say. I don’t want to be hit.

 

“I’m not sure, sir,” is what I reply. He cackles.

 

“Rich, pretty kid. Treats you too well.” My father flicks his cigarette ash onto the ground next to his chair. “Vermin like you don’t deserve a home cooked meal.” I swallow and nod my head, halt my feet just past the television so I can listen to him speak. I know better than to walk away before I’m dismissed. “Well, what the fuck are you still doing in here? Get out of my sight.”

 

“Yes, sir,” I say as I duck my chin into my chest and walk straight to my bedroom. My room isn’t like Ciel’s, which is covered in pictures of landscapes and his - our - friends. Mine is baren, with hardly any signs of life. I’ve got a worn down mattress just straight down on the floor with holes big enough to put my fist through. I’ve had the thing longer than I can remember. A dresser is placed up against the wall farthest from the door, and a desk is right beside it. The desk is the only reason you’d think someone actually uses this room. I keep my papers from school there, and a second uniform - clean and pressed - lays over the back of the desk chair.

 

I drop off my school bag next to the door and plop six feet down onto the crummy mattress. It’s lumpy and uncomfortable with so many years of use, but I’m used to it, so I never think anything of it. My mind starts to wonder. Ciel is wearing that adorable get up to the party, so what would look ‘nice’ enough for him?

 

I groan and flop all the way back, my head hitting the pillow and my eyes closing. The nicest thing I own is a suit my dad gave me three years ago for my mom’s funeral. I dunno, maybe I should just call Ciel and say I’m not going? Who wants to go to Grelle’s house, anyways? Not me.

 

Next thing I know my phone is ringing and I have to crawl halfway across the floor to reach my backpack. I pull open the front pocket and dig inside it for a few seconds before I find the cell. Ciel’s name is flashing across the screen and I answer it without hesitation. “Hey, man.”

 

_ “Hey _ ,” his voice flows like honey through the receiver. “ _ I’m here to pick you up.” _

 

“What? You said two hours.” I pull the phone from my ear and press the speaker button. I notice the time on the top right corner of the device and my mouth drops.  _ Fuck, I must have fallen asleep. _

 

“ _ Are you even dressed? You idiot, hurry up. I’ll be stay down here in my car. _ ” He hangs up before I can even apologize. I drop the phone onto the dresser as I pull open the first drawer. I dig through until I find a nice, charcoal button down shirt. The color is almost as dark as my hair, I notice as I rip my uniform off my chest. I button up the new shirt as fast as possible, and yank open the third drawer on the dresser. I find a pair of faded jeans - they weren’t bought that way, trust me - and pulled them over my long legs. They hang loosely on my hips, and I fret because I’ve  _ never owned a belt in my entire life, oh god what do I do?  _ I shake my head and forget about it, hopefully Ciel won’t notice - or just won’t care. I bend down to pull my grey sneakers back on my feet and look toward my desk. Now I only own three jackets - two of which are a sickly forest green and I have to wear every day for school, so those two are out of the picture. The third is a jean jacket with pockets on the  _ inside _ , like dude, that’s awesome. So I pull that one on because all the cool kids are wearing jean jackets, right?

 

I comb back my hair with my fingers and swipe my phone back off the dresser, then slide it right into the back pocket of my jeans. I bolt out of my room, tip toe my way past my father because he’s now passed out in his recliner. I shut the door to the apartment so quietly I don’t even hear it latch shut. As I race outside and down the flight of stairs to the parking lot, I immediately notice Ciel’s 2017 Porsche 911. It’s like a dark midnight blue car, and when he first got it, I loved to tease him that it was black. He jumps out of the thing as soon as I get close and his eyes move up and down my body.

 

“What?” I ask, tilting my head as he keeps looking at me.

 

“What the actual fuck are your clothes?” he retorts, and I look down at them. “Your jacket is hideous, I thought I told you to throw that thing away in eighth grade. Also your shirt is buttoned wrong.” Ciel walks forward and pushes the jacket off my shoulders. We let it fall to the pavement and his fingers snap to the buttons of my dress shirt. He unbuttons the entire thing, tips of his fingers brushing against the skin of my abdomen and chest as he does it back up correctly. “And your hair is a mess,” he says as he reaches up to push several strands down. Our eyes meet when he tugs the one strand that never leaves the center of my face. “You were asleep, weren’t you?”

 

“Was it that obvious?” I ask, grabbing his waist with both hands. He smirks, looks back down to the ground to eye the jacket again, then raises his eyes up to my face again. This time, though, he’s peering up at me through his lashes. Sapphire and lilac get hit by the setting sun and blaze with an emotion I can’t place.

 

“It’s always obvious with you. I could tell when you answered the phone.” He slaps a hand onto my chest and pushes off of me, turning back toward the car. “Come on. We’re gonna be late for the party. I’m not missing Alois.”

 

Oh yeah, right.

 

My best friend is in love with Alois Trancy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been about a month since I posted? I am so sorry, shit happened tbh. But uhhh
> 
> have a chapter?

So here we are, me and Sebastian, standing in front of a dark maroon house. Sebastian keeps shifting nervously between each foot and my heart is beating a mile a minute. We're both nervous for different reasons, let me tell you.

He's nervous because he only ever goes to parties when I drag him, like tonight. He's not really too popular - he goes to D&D every Thursday night, plays shitty Facebook games on his phone, and he's never missed a single episode of Doctor Who. I mean, he's got friends - we both do, but I'm the only one in our little group that he met on his own.

Now the reason I'm standing here nervous as everlasting  _ fuck _ is because on the other side of that door is what will define me for my Junior year of high school. Will I leave here Ciel Phantomhive, head of yearbook committee and utter dweeb? Or will I leave Ciel Phantomhive, head of yearbook and boyfriend to the star of last year's Spring musical, Alois Trancy?

“Do we knock?” Sebastian asks as he runs his fingers through his hair for the twenty millionth time since I parked my car. Honestly that’s one of his cutest traits.

“Yes, we knock,” I reply with a roll of my eyes. I raise my hand and tentatively rap on the door twice.

And then it’s open, and Grelle’s high-pitched, annoying ass voice is shoving it’s way into my ears and making them bleed. “Oh my  _ god _ , Bassy! I didn’t know you were coming!” she squeals and my best friend physically cringes beside me. I try to muffle my laughter.

Grelle is wearing her waist length, surprisingly-not-bottle-red hair up into a high ponytail with a single, thick braid crowning the top of her head. And yes, her striking, emerald eyes are  _ gorgeous _ \- say that again with a stereotypical gay voice - but she literally cakes her face in tons of makeup. Like I can see contouring, fake lashes, and my god that cherry red lipstick does not compliment you, honey. Ew. Her dress is… modest for Grelle Sutcliff. It’s mid-thigh, the same color as her vibrant hair, with mesh covering just above the breasts and her shoulders - no sleeves, cute - and little rhinestones curve over the top of the breasts in a sort of heart shape. It’s very adorable, minus the color. I could totally pull that off in blue… if I stuffed a bra.

“Ciel dragged me,” Sebastian says, which makes Grelle turn her eyes unwillingly to me. I smile at her, and she glares. Sebastian clears his throat. “Can we come in?”

“Sorry, no dogs allowed,” she says, directed right at me.

“Yet you allow yourself?” I spit back, tilting my head and closing my lips to turn my grin into a smirk.

Sebastian’s cognac orbs go wide as he turns to look at me. I know what he’s thinking. I just outright called her a bitch, which don’t get me wrong, she definitely is. “How about we all three just go in and enjoy the party?” he suggests, and I shrug.

Grelle removes her gaze from my face, her eyes icy. “I can deal,” she replies to him, her expression softening. “Get a drink with me?” She extends her hand out to him and he shifts awkwardly. I push him forward.

“He’d love to,” I say and follow them into the house. My eyes are instantly scanning the massive room full of teenagers as Grelle drags Sebastian off. “I’ll catch up with you later,” I call to him as he looks at me with a desperate expression of  _ help me! _

Finally I catch who I’m looking for. Alois is hovering near the couch, one leg propped up on the arm and his elbow on his knee. He’s talking to someone I recognize, a girl that’s in theatre. I don’t know her name, but I can tell they’re flirting. His sky blue eyes are lidded, and he’s pouting his lips. I know he likes vagina, too - not my thing, but hey, man, you do you.

He throws his head back in a laugh and that gorgeous blonde hair bounces off his forehead. God, he's beautiful. I don't even know how I'm supposed to catch his attention, but tonight is the night I try.

I slowly make my way over to him, and wave to a few friends of mine when I see them. I knew Mey and Lizzy would be here - they're in color guard with Grelle and practically follow her around like dolls - but they dragged Bard, too? Wow. He looks super uncomfortable, just like Sebastian had. I'll check up on him later, maybe.

I'm now standing two feet away from Alois and he turns toward me. I flash a smile at him. “Hey, Alois!” I shout over the thumping music that plays throughout the house.

He looks at my face for about two seconds before his gaze is sliding down my body. I swoon, but he doesn't look too impressed. Maybe I did choose the wrong outfit. “Phantomhive, right?” he shouts back. Holy shit, he knows who I am. I mean, duh, he should. I've been photographing him for the yearbook for the last three years.

“Yeah, Ciel,” is my response. I'm grinning like an idiot, I can tell, but I can't get my lips to turn down like I want them to.

Alois looks bored, unimpressed, not amused. I hate it. “So  _ Ciel _ ,” he says, putting so much emphasis on my name that I don't even know what he's meaning by it, “what can I do for you?”

“I uh… I just wanted to say hi,” I reply, and my lips actually twitch downward for two seconds. My next sentence comes out rushed as I push a hair that fell out of my bun behind my ear. “You were perfect in the Spring musical.”

His lips twitch up into a smile and he tilts his head. His eyes roam my body again, and I try hard not to hyperventilate. “Yeah. I know.” He's cocky, I love that. “What was your favorite scene?”

I have to recall what musical it even was. Into the Woods, yeah. He played Cinderella’s Prince. “I loved that song about the prince's trying to find their princesses.” It's hard for me to remember, I didn't pay attention to any scene he wasn't in.

“ _ Agony _ ,” he says. “That was a fun one, yeah.” He laughs, lids his eyes, and looks at me like that. He's flirting with me, holy fuck. Am I in heaven? Have I died? No, breathe, Ciel. “You're in yearbook, aren't you?”

I nod, mouth unmoving. It surprises me once again, Alois Trancy knows who I am. Has he noticed me in the halls? Noticed my name at the bottom of every picture that shows him in the yearbook? That last thought terrifies me. I don't want him thinking I'm some sort of stalker, though now that I think about it, I probably am.

Alois raises an eyebrow, probably sensing how awkward I am currently feeling. I mean, he’s my idol and ideal boyfriend, and I can hardly make conversation. “Do you have a drink?” he asks me, leaning close enough to speak in a normal tone. I’m thrown. His smell is overwhelming my senses and I’m lost in it.

“N-No,” I stutter out, trying not to lose my balance and fall face first into him. Our eyes are locked and I'm starstruck, I can't believe he's finally talking to me after three years of ignoring me completely.

“Let's go get you one,” he says and he  _ grabs my fucking hand _ . He starts dragging me through the crowded living room toward the kitchen and my feet are moving, but all I can think about is how warm his hand is and how he's touching me and holy fucking shit, I am the luckiest guy on earth. He stops in front of a counter that is littered with bottles of cheap booze and nasty beer. “What’ll you have? I can make a pretty decent white russian.” He turns to me and winks and I swear to god the floor starts to cave in below my feet.

“That works for me,” I reply, trying so hard to keep my breathing even. I can’t believe he’s about to make me a drink. He grabs a few bottles - I don’t even know which ones - and pours them into a red solo cup. After a few more seconds, he finishes making the concoction and hands it to me. I take a sip and try not to make a disgusted face. Despite what my parents may think, I’m not a huge fan of alcohol. I mean, yeah, I drink at parties, but I usually stick to cherry and whip cream flavored vodka. Those drinks are tasty.

But now Alois is smiling at me and his eyes are fucking huge, and I can tell he wants me to like this stupid drink. So I smile and I take giant gulp. “It’s good,” I shout over the music and suddenly Alois scoots just a bit closer. Our chests are touching now and I swear I’m going to faint.

“I’m glad you like it,” he says back, his voice at normal volume and right in my ear. I’m trying so hard to not die in this moment. His breath is touching my lobe. His smell is intoxicating me. His presence is literally filling all of my senses.

“Jesus Christ, I found you!” I’m pulled away from Alois and he’s reaching out to me and I don’t know what to do. I’m in Sebastian’s arms. I’m not where I want to be. I want to be with Alois.

“What the fuck?” Alois says. He’s so cute when he’s angry. I like him upset. “Have you ever heard of a private conversation?”

“Alois, it’s okay,” I reply and I flash him a smile. Those icy blue eyes narrow, though, and he doesn’t seem to care. I turn toward Sebastian anyway and raise an eyebrow. “What the fuck, dude?”

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” he nearly whines. I pity him,  _ almost _ . If it wasn’t for the fact that I’m not drunk enough and Alois hasn’t asked me out yet, I definitely would be pitying him right now. “I just ditched Grelle and I’m ready to go, like seriously, man.”

“Okay?” I look at him with my brows pulled together and my lips turned downward. My next statement sounds like a question, even to my own ears, “So go home, then?” I roll my eyes, Sebastian actually looks wounded.

“Are you gonna drink?” he asks.

I hold up the half-empty cup in my hands and shake it. “Already have been.”

Alois puts a hand on my shoulder, then. His fingers curl over my collarbone, his nails are digging into my skin. “I think the boy wants to stay,” he interjects into the conversation. “Isn’t that right, Ciel?”

The way he says my name makes my heart melt, but Sebastian narrows his eyes. “I’m sure Ciel wants to go home,” Sebastian replies to Alois, though his hazel orbs are now on my face. “Right?”

I don’t know what to say. Sebastian looks so desperate. Alois is being so possessive. Who do I choose?

My phone is buzzing inside my shorts. It’s easy to swipe it from my back pocket.

**Your father is home early. Please come home.**

_ Fuck. _

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed, smash that kudos button and comment about what you liked.
> 
> Also please come annoy me on tumblr @ addictiontofiction13.tumblr.com


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